


Sleepless Nights

by QueenForADay



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunter Heists, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, F/M, Fake AH Crew, FakeHaus, Fluff, Heist gone wrong, Minor Injuries, Multi, Platonic Relationships, Relationship(s), Slight Angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:57:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7514393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenForADay/pseuds/QueenForADay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a heist goes wrong the Reader gets unexpected visitors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless Nights

You’re already awake when you hear the first batch of police cars fly past your apartment building. It’s a dizzying mix of flashing lights and wailing sirens, but it’s something you’re too used to. On the other end of the city, you can only imagine what’s going on.

You already have a pretty good idea.

Looking at the clock in your kitchen, you sigh when you see the time. It’s one in the morning, but you haven’t been able to sleep. It isn’t unusual for you to have sleepless nights occasionally. First it was the need to finish a project you were working on for work. By the time you were finished, you were already in the kitchen making tea, dragging your heavy body around as best you could.

Then the city seemed to shake.

When you looked out your window, you saw a plume of smoke rise from the other side of the city, and you just knew.

You hold the cup of tea in your hands and wander over to the window. Looking out on the streets, you see more police cars speed past, and eventually an armoured truck follows them.

There’s a knock on your door.

You put the cup down on the kitchen counter and wander over to the door. That’s when you hear the hushed voices in the hallway outside of your apartment.

“-and this wouldn’t have happened if your people-”

“- _my_ people were doing what they were supposed to do-”

The two men outside your apartment stop arguing when you open the door. They both look at you a bit blankly for a minute. You stop the sigh that almost leaves you as you see what state they’re both in. Ryan’s face is streaked with blood, probably not his own, and faded paint where he probably tried to wipe it off. Strands of blond hair hang down framing his face, some of it clumped together with dried blood.

Matt looks worse. He’s bent over slightly with his arm wrapped around his middle. The side of his face is scraped slightly, but you’re more worried about him being slouched over.

You step to the side and let the two of them in.

“This will only be for a night,” Ryan sighs as you lock the door. You know exactly what he’s going to say – you’ve been through it all before. They’ll only stay for the night. They’ll be gone before you wake up. You won’t hear from them again – until, of course, another heist goes wrong, and the conversation happens again.

If you had any sense, you would keep that door locked. You would tell them that you didn’t want to do this anymore. You didn’t want to hide two of Los Santos’ most sought after criminals, that they could find somewhere else to lay low.

But everyone in their crews had someone to go to. They all either have wives off-grid to hide with, or they would run away together. Ryan and Matt didn’t have that, but they had you. You who lives on the edge of the city, who doesn’t attract the attention of the LSPD, who you’re sure their crews don’t even know about.

Ryan runs his fingers through his hair.

“Have a shower,” you say simply. You point at your own face, along your hairline. “You still have paint and blood on you.”

Ryan touches his own hairline, and frowns when he sees the faded remnants of his face paint. He looks over to Matt.

Matt’s skin is slightly damp with sweat. He slowly pulls off his jacket, and you see the spot just above his abdomen when blood has soaked into his shirt. He spots you looking at it. “It’s not too serious,” he tries to convince you, but when you move his shirt up a bit to take a look, you see how he winces.

It’s not the worst injury he’s ever come to you with. You help him sit forward slightly, and breathe a slight sigh of relief when you see the bullet’s exit wound. When you help him sit back against the couch, you start patching him up. The shower is running, and the sound of it helps dissolves the silence between you and Matt.

“I have some morphine if you need it,” you tell him as you start cleaning the wound. Matt looks up at the ceiling as you work.

“It’s fine,” he replies softly. You know it isn’t, but it’s too late in the night to start arguing with him. Ryan walks out into the living room towel-drying his hair. You let them both keep spare clothes here just in case they do need to stay a bit longer. Most of the time, the clothes are just to change into if theirs are covered in blood.

Ryan’s gaze is still on Matt. “You’re okay?”

The other man nods firmly, gasping slightly when you press an antiseptic wipe to the skin around the wound.

When it’s clean you fish out a sterilised needle and thread. “I don’t have any stitching glue, so this will have to be stitched with this,” you tell Matt. He looks at the needle between your fingers and sighs.

“Do what you need to,” he says softly, bunching up his shirt a bit more so you can work better. You thread the needle and start stitching the cut together. Every so often you look up to Matt’s face and register his expression. His head is bent back and his eyes are closed. He’s breathing deeply, letting out hitched gasps when you tighten the wire to keep the cut closed.

You look over to Ryan.

“There are blankets and pillows in the spare room,” you say, “get some sleep Rye.”

He nods. “Alright then,” he says quietly and disappears into the hallway. You hear the door of the spare room click shut and you turn back to Matt. “I’m not angry but-”

“-When you say you’re not angry, you’re _always_ angry-”

“-but what happened?”

Matt looks at you for a minute before he sighs heavily. “We didn’t have a backup plan.”

“You never do.”

He pulls a face. “No, _we_ always do. Ramsey’s people don’t.”

You finish stitching Matt’s side and grab another antiseptic wipe to clean away the last of the blood.

“Sleep with me,” you help him up off the couch and to your room. The apartment is still dark: you didn’t want to risk turning on the lights just in case they were followed. The street lights outside are enough for you to navigate through the room and the hallway. When you reach your bedroom, you help Matt get into one side of the bed. Usually, he would sleep on the couch, but with a stitched wound, you were willing to let him sleep in your bed tonight.

Matt reaches out and catches your hand in his. He links your fingers together. “Don’t leave,” he says quietly. You squeeze his hand.

“I’m just making sure Rye is okay,” you assure him, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You pull the sheets over Matt, covering up to his chest. You smooth your hand over his hair. “I promise I’ll be back.”

Ryan’s sitting on the edge of the bed when you look into the spare room. You lean against the doorframe and fold your arms over your chest.

“Is Matt okay?” is the first thing he says.

You nod. “If he sleeps.”

Ryan laughs lightly. “When does he ever sleep?”

“When do you?” you counter. Ryan pushes his hair back from his face again and sighs.

“We’ll be gone in the morning,” he says quietly. You frown.

“Stay as long as you need to,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.”

“I am though.”

“I know, but just stop.”

You walk into the room and sit beside Ryan, taking one of his hands in yours. “You and Matt are always welcome here, even if you’re not being chased by the LSPD.”

Ryan squeezes your hand and thanks you. “I know we’re putting you in danger by being here.”

You shrug your shoulder and stand up from the bed. “No one has come for me,” you tell him, “besides, if they did, I know I had you both to keep them away.”

Something glints in Ryan’s eyes but he laughs. He reaches for your hand again and links your fingers together. “God help the man who tries to hurt you.”

You squeeze his hand and look back to the door. “I should get back to bed. I promised Matt I would be there.”

Ryan nods and lets go of your hand. He sits back slightly on the bed and runs his fingers through his hair again – a nervous habit he picked up years ago.

You lean down and press a kiss to his cheek. “G’night Rye-bread.”

When you get back to your own room, Matt is already asleep. He’s rolled onto his side and breathing heavily. You manage to slip into bed without waking him.

Just as you feel your eyelids get heavy and droop close, you feel Matt shuffle behind you and an arm goes around your waist. There’s still space between your back and his chest, and his touch is light, but your breath still catches in your throat.

Matt sighs. “I’m sorry for what we put you through,” he says quietly.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not though,” he replies, “you should be able to kick us out.”

He pauses for a minute.

“Why do you keep letting us in?”

It’s a question that sometimes you ask yourself. There’s no straight answer you could ever give yourself, only that you couldn’t imagine leaving them alone when they had nowhere else to go.

You tug the blanket a bit tighter around yourself. “You and Rye, you’re my friends,” you offer simply, “and I need to make sure you’re both okay.”

You feel him huff out a laugh. “Funny. That’s what we do for you.”

A small smile tugs at the side of your lips. “Then we have an agreement then.”

“That we do.”

Matt soon falls back to sleep, presumably from the wearing down of the shock of being shot at. You manage to turn around to face him. Seeing Matt sleep is a rarity. It was one of the few times you see him with no tension or worries. Ryan is the same. When they both slept, they both looked so peaceful. So much so in fact that you sometimes forgot about their statues as being the most wanted criminals that the LSPD search for. You reach out and gently run your fingertips over a small cut on the side of his face.

The rain hitting against your bedroom window is the only sound in the apartment. Everything is so still and quiet, you’re almost afraid to move in case you break the calmness. Sleep soon comes for you too, but the last thing you see before you slip off is Matt gently pulling you closer to him – the arm he has around your waist still there and being an anchor for you.

You just wish that they wouldn’t leave early in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my friend Benji's fault. He knew exactly what would happen when he said to me "You know, AH and Funhaus both have killers on their teams. I bet there's someone who can get through to both of them."
> 
> I have a tumblr! yourqueenforayear.tumblr.com - If you want to suggest anything, just drop on by!


End file.
